Heir of the Wolf
by airwolf addict
Summary: story fourteen. Chrissy goes in search of the 'Dark Angel,' a secret development her father had been a part of before he had been killed. What answers will her search bring?
1. Chapter 1

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CHAPTER 1

Chrissy walked into the study of her flat just outside the city square. The small flat suited her needs, but the peaceful countryside where her father had lived had much more of her much needed room. It didn't matter though, she'd never found his will and the estate had to be sold to pay off previous debts he had accumulated. The massive debts made her curious though, just what had her father been up to in the last years of his life? All she knew was that he went to America, California exactly, to work for some government agency. After that she didn't hear anything more until she heard that he'd been killed months after it happened.

She pulled open the desk drawer; it was filled with paperwork that was utterly meaningless to her. It had a few sketches of a helicopter but all the rest was in code. The papers had sat here in this drawer since she found them in her father's desk after he died. To her they were useless, but somehow, they looked important, not something to be taken lightly and definitely not thrown away.

A quick glance at her silver plated watch told her that she had better hurry if she wasn't going to be late for work. She slid into an overcoat, grabbed her shoulder bag, and scurried out the front door, locking it behind her.

Leaving the steps up from the tubes, she walked just down the street to a bookstore; she started her duties-arranging books and dusting the bookcases.

A familiar looking man entered the shop. He looked absolutely exhausted, tired lines causing him to look older than he actually was, but she knew who it was, even if she hadn't seen him in two years.

"Chrissy," he began in a hushed tone.

"Chris, please," she reminded. Her father had always favored his son, he seemed so special to him, until he decided he'd had enough of the government games and had disappeared without a trace. Since then she had used the more boyish form of her name, as first in an attempt to please her father, but later she found it fit her better.

"Chris," he amended. "When is your next break? I need to talk to you."

She looked down at her watch. "In thirty minutes. I'll meet you across the street at the tea room."

He agreed, turning to leave.

Reaching for her dust rag, she thought about the man that had mysteriously come, Daniel. Why? She wondered. Her business with the government had ended almost two years ago, and while they'd gotten along alright, she and Daniel had never been very close. So why did he show up now?

Thirty minutes later, she appeared, as promised, at the doorway of the tea room. Gingerly sitting down in a chair across from Daniel, she asked the question that had been plaguing her mind for the last half hour.

"So?" she queried. "I know, being an ex-government agent myself, you didn't come for just tea and talk so what is it?"

He stifled a laugh. Ex-government agent-it was true. She had been one, and a very good one at that, but it seemed strange that a beautiful young twenty something like her could be a fierce government agent. "Your father's papers, I think I finally got a lead on them."

Her father's papers? Wow, this guy was more persistent than she could have ever imagined. She would have told him it wasn't a big deal and that he didn't need to worry about them if she had known he was still looking, but with all the time and effort he had invested she might as well listen.

"It was the helicopter project your father worked on in America, known as Dark Angel."

"Dark Angel," it sounded vaguely familiar. She chewed on the word for a long minute. "Got anything else?"

"It was supposedly destroyed in Libya not long after its maiden voyage, after it blew up its entire control center, but there are reports claiming to have seen it since then."

The new information captured her imagination. In all truth, it was hard leaving the action of government spy work, but she had decided it would be easier before she had a lifetime of memories.

"Chris, I told you about all I can, but if you want to know much more….There is one way."

It had killed her father and driven her brother away, but it drew her in so easily. The whole bookshop thing wasn't going to work long-term and she knew it. She'd had several jobs since her father's death but nothing else had held her attention long.

At long last she answered. "I want to know. I'll do it."

Entering the conference room the next morning, Chrissy was dressed in a smart business suit. Nothing like making a nice impression before begging for your job back, she thought half-humouredly.

Not much begging was necessary though. James Stoner, the head of the committee, greeted her sincerely. "It's nice to have you back Chrissy."

\A/

Chance's crying had Caitlin rushing over to his side. After the scare he'd given them not long ago, she would admit that she was jumpy, hardly leaving his side.

Le came in with a bottle. "Cait, it's ok. He hasn't eaten in hours, he's just hungry.

Subsiding, she set him in her lap and took them bottle. Le was right. Chance guzzled the milk greedily.

"Slow down," she warmed, "or you'll get-"

He hiccupped a couple times.

"So much for the warning." She positioned him against her shoulder to burp him.

A sudden shiver traveled down Le's spine as he carried the finished bottle back to the kitchen. It was cold in here so why the shiver? It was nothing he told himself, but he couldn't help but wonder if that was really the case.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Chrissy's fingers slid across the white paper. Hidden amongst the pages and pages of mysterious sketches and code, she laid eyes on the neatly printed will of her father, Charles Henry Moffet.

Silently, she skimmed through it. At the end was a strange message. The will left her the countryside land, and the necessary information to access a trust fund with vast amounts of money in it. It was more than enough to pay back his owned debts. The only thing left for her to wonder was how he had died and what the strange message said. Glowering in frustration, she struggled to decipher the strange letters. After nearly an hour of struggles to translate, she decided it was Libyan. Why Libyan? Suddenly she remembered- it was the one language her father had insisted on her learning, maybe this was why, but after years of not using it, she struggled with the message.

"Special gift… supersonic helicopter…..Dark Angel…..Americans…..find in Libya…..made deal with Gidafi." She figured out most of the message. This special helicopter-Dark Angel- was supposed to be held by Gidafi in Libya, just waiting for her. Years had passed since the will had been written and anything could have happened though, besides, what would she do with a helicopter anyway? Even if she moved to his countryside estate, she couldn't think of any reason for needing one. Something tickled her fancy about it though. It had been described as special, supersonic, and her father called it Dark Angel; she had a feeling this wasn't just some ordinary bird.

The next morning, she used her newly renewed status to check up on some of the details about this Dark Angel. For a top spy in a highly knowledgeable secret intelligence, the information was remarkably difficult to come by, which meant there wasn't much information to have or, more likely, somebody was being very careful to cover their tracks.

Finally, she found out that the government agency her father had worked for and the manufacturer of this one of a kind helicopter was the FIRM. Airwolf, as it was called there, had been supposed stolen by Moffet and his crew and taken to Libya. There was a recovery attempt made by a former test pilot, Hawke, who had previously been the best until he dropped out of the program. Evidently, the rumor of Airwolf being destroyed in Libya was just that- a rumor. It had since then been used by Stringfellow Hawke for missions of national security until his death a year and a half ago.

She punched in the computer for information on Stringfellow Hawke. The information came up on the screen.

Hawke, Stringfellow- Vietnam Veteran, served three tours, POW for two months, honorable discharge, secret operative for two years, and chief test pilot on the American Airwolf project, living blood relations? Saint John Hawke.

Next, she tried Saint John. His information appeared a moment later.

Hawke, Saint John- MIA since Vietnam sixteen years ago…

She skimmed the rest, nothing of any interest to her.

Any doubt she might have had was now gone. Without a shadow of a doubt, she knew Dark Angel, or Airwolf, must be a very special helicopter to have such little recorded information and such high security clearances. She knew so little about it, yet longing for it surged through her blood, like it truly belonged to her. She would get it.

\A/

Flying high above the rock formations in the Valley of the Gods, he then piloted Airwolf higher and higher into the sky.

"What are you doing String? We're just making sure all the systems are ok."

String allowed a sly grin to spread across his face beneath the cover of the heavy helmet. "Hold on Dom, we're going up," and with that said, he hit the button just beneath his thumb sending them racing up into the heavens.

Dom chanced a look at the altimeter- they were already closing in on seventy five thousand feet.

"What's the point in this?" It wasn't a comfortable ride up here and it would only get worse as they rose farther into the thinning air.

"Making sure everything is at its peak," String replied wryly.

Topping out at eighty five thousand, he began their descent. He allowed them to practically free fall for a good distance before even trying to regain control. Not like it would have done him any good otherwise in such thin air.

"Momma mia," Dom muttered. "That was some ride."

"Yeah," Hawke agreed, enjoying Dom's expression.

"I heard you're just about out to get yourself killed lately," Dom said referring to the almost impossible stunt he'd done and the vicious storm he had fought for eight hours straight, "but if you gotta do it, don't take me down with ya."

"I'm not actually planning to get myself killed," he said defensively. "Both of those were with good reasoning."

"Let's just get home," Dom said figuring he'd deal with the arguments another time.

\A/

"So? How'd it go?" Caitlin inquired.

"Pretty well," Hawke answered. "How about here?"

She remembered his anxiety about leaving them this morning. "Everything is alright here," she reassured him. Ever since Chance's seizure the night before their wedding, they'd both been afraid to leave him, but this morning he sensed there was something more.

"You're positive?"

"One hundred percent," she confirmed. "I can't say I got much done though," she added with a small laugh.

Taking his cello into the living room, he played while Caitlin fixed dinner. The relaxing music lulled Chance right to sleep.

The night was dark and still, a quiet calm washed over the overcast skies, yet it wasn't peaceful to String. A blanket of cold sweat covered his body and he rolled restlessly from side to side.

Caitlin, woken from the violent shaking and his damp body brushing against her repeatedly, turned a sympathetic eye towards him. She wished that somehow she could rid him of the awful images that he witnessed in these terrible dreams, but she couldn't. She bushed his tassel of brown hair from his sweaty brow. "String," she said soothingly, "it's alright."

He seemed to calm down momentarily before returning to the restlessness of before.

"String," she aborted the idea of trying to lull him back to sleep after a couple attempts, "wake up," she shook him gently but he probably couldn't even notice the difference between that and his own shaking. From the neighboring room she could hear Chance's cries. 'Great. Now he's upset too.' She moved to endeavor waking her husband once more.

Waking, he reached for her, just her very presence comforting him. Desperately, he clung to her like if he let go he'd never get to be with her again. She stayed, offering what comfort she could. Finally, he loosened his grip on her, coming back to reality. "Not getting much sleep, huh?"

"No," she admitted, "but I'll be ok as long as you're alright."

"I'm fine." Now he too heard the crying coming from the next room as Caitlin started to get up to tend to the baby. "I'll take care of him, you go back to bed."

"I can get him."

He shook his head. "You look tired, go back to sleep. You know I won't be able to sleep anyway."

Sighing, she agreed and shuffled back to the other side of the bed and slipped under the covers. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure."

And with that, she fell back asleep.

He made his way into Chance's room. "You not sleeping well either?" he asked the baby. Cradling the young child, he took him downstairs to find something to calm him. He made sure he stayed with him the whole time though, if anything, he knew how consoling it was to have someone there after waking up from a nightmare. He stilled worried about Chance's random fussy spurts, but oddly enough, lately they had coincided with moments of his own uncomfort.

\A/

At Santini Air, Dom peered over the side of the playpen where the six month old played happily. "I don't see anything wrong. He looks happy as a fiddle to me."

"That's what worries us the most. One minute he's fine the next he's crying, then he'll be fine again."

Saint John interrupted their conversation as he reentered the hangar after dropping off some film. "I think I brought back some company," he warned, "in the form of a white limo and a matching FIRM director to go with it."

Michael stepped from the limo not a second after it had stopped.

"Hawke," he addresses briefly, "I thought I'd warn you that the files on Airwolf have been accessed quite often lately, and that probably means trouble for you."

He shrugged it off. "Others have tried. So the Lady and I could be in trouble, thanks Michael, but I know that much every day I wake up."

"I know it's much," Michael admitted, "but I'll keep you updated. Just be careful because whoever it is must be pretty serious to be checking up on it that often."

"I'll keep an eye out, but the location isn't in any of those files, and I can't think of a much safer place for it right now."

Michael couldn't say he disagreed. Some place like FIRM headquarters would be the first place to start looking for a piece of top secret government hardware.

\A/

"Not dead?" Chrissy repeated, "but the computer said he died a year and a half ago. They even had a memorial service for him How can Stringfellow not be dead? He was hit by a damn missile!"

"We don't know that he isn't dead," Stoner amended, "but we don't know for sure that he is dead either. There has only been limited activity that Airwolf could have possibly been involved in lately, and there haven't been any identifications that are totally positive, but there is some speculation that he's not truly dead."

'He was hit by a missile!" she was outraged that James could think anyone could live through that. It simply wasn't possible. "A missile killed my father, why wouldn't it kill him?"

"Let me tell you a little about Stringfellow Hawke," James Stoner suggested, "maybe that would give you a better understanding."

"Ok, I'm listening." She doubted anything he would have anything new, but how could it hurt to listen?

"I've dealt with him a little, so I'll tell you what I know. First off, he has an amazing ability for surviving. He's lost nearly everyone else, but he always manages to get away, not always unscathed, but he's lived through what would kill most normal people. Not one's managed to kill him yet, an many have tried. The mission you'd probably be most interested in was his first though."

"If you say so. I would think something more recent would be more useful, personally."

"The last mission we know of was a stopping a major drug run from entering the United States, but that's where he had the whole missile incident."

"That he couldn't have lived through," Chrissy muttered.

"He did at least survive long enough to be taken to the hospital, and he was there for a while, but his records are very unclear as to whether he was released or not and his latest condition. There was an uprising with some grudge holding Vietnamese only a few months ago. His brother, Saint John got grazed and we think Stringfellow was there too."

"What kind of injures were received? If he did somehow survive, I know he would have gotten hurt."

"Like I said, the records aren't very clear, but they said a concussion, second and third degree burns, and he was hit by some shrapnel. He had a bad limp and pretty much no feeling in either of his hands and arms. None of the doctors had any hope of him ever flying again, but it wouldn't be the first time he'd proved them wrong."

"What about combat flying?"

"Out of the question, especially with something as complicated as Airwolf."

"But he could still be weapons engineer or something.'

"It's possible, but unlikely. Just about anyone could do it more accurately and probably faster with the numbness." The clock ticked closer to three o'clock. "I have a meeting to get to, but now you know a little more."

"One more thing."

"Yes?" Stoner turned back around.

"You said I'd be interested in his first Airwolf mission, why?"

"His first mission was taking back Airwolf from Dr. Moffet in Libya. He is the one who killed your father-mostly out of revenge for a girl that he tortured and left out in the desert to die."

Anger boiled up inside her. The will left Dark Angel to her. She was going to get it back, and Hawke would pay dearly.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Dom drove the jeep out to the Valley. "Tell me one more time why you want to stay out here. You said yourself that yourself that there isn't a much safer place and all you're going to do is get a sore back."

"I just think it's a good idea. Something has felt wrong all day."

He rarely did something without a good reason, and String's sixth sense had saved them before, so they didn't tend to doubt it.

"Dom, hurry." String's concern for the Lady's safety suddenly increased. Someone was out there, he just knew it.

"I'm hurrin' already," Dom replied grumpily as he pressed the pedal down even farther.

Approaching the cave entrance, Dom noticed the eerie glow inside the cockpit. "Funny, I was almost positive we turned everything off." He walked toward the sleek black helicopter. "String, we shut down the computers didn't we?"

No answer.

"String?"

String had an absent far away look about him.

"You ok, String?"

\A/

Caitlin trudged down the hallway wearily. Chance was crying again, but for the life of her, she couldn't understand why. He'd been fed, changed, bathed, and seemed perfectly fine when she had put him to bed.

"It's ok, baby," she soothed. "It's alright." Maybe she should have stayed at the Lair and let String take care of Chance; they seemed to get along perfectly.

She wondered how things were going at the Lair. Thinking about radioing them, she decided against it. It was too late.

Caitlin took Chance down into the living room. He seemed to enjoy the bottle she gave him more as a toy than acting hungry. He had always had String's propensity to get up early, but lately it was like he didn't sleep at night either.

After letting him play for a while, she took him back upstairs. "Back to bed, Chance." Lowering him into the crib, she kissed him goodnight and stroked his blonde streaked, downy, baby fuzz until he went to sleep. Tiredly, she went back to the master bedroom. Slipping under the covers, she naturally reached for String. Of course, he wasn't there. She sighed, missing the warm body that normally accompanied her, and curled up under the covers, drifting back off to sleep.

\A/

"String?" Dom repeated.

String blinked a few times before answering. "Fine. I'm fine."

"Did we leave the computer on when we were here yesterday?"

"No."

"You sure? Cause they're on now."

"I know we didn't," he answered definitely.

Dom's voice quieted to a whisper. "You think someone was…or is here?"

'Thermal scans indicate life human life form five miles out.'

"Dom, there's someone out there. Five miles out."

Five miles at night in the Valley of the Gods was like an eternity away without the proper equipment, but to be out there whoever it was probably had a good reason for being there. Why else would anyone be out there at two in the morning?

They both slipped into the darkness. Time passed slowly, minutes ticking away like hours. By morning nothing had happened.

"You think it's alright?" Dom asked.

'Any life scans?' he mentally questioned.

'Running scans….No life forms,' she answered.

"We're ok."

They stepped from the shadows, rolling the tension out of their shoulders.

"I'm getting too old for this," Dom muttered.

String couldn't say he didn't feel the same way. A night in the cold desert with only a rock as a bed wasn't nice going to be nice to anyone's body.

Finally convinced the danger had passed, String went back to the jeep.

"I'll stay here," Dom volunteered, "just to be sure."

He agreed and drove back to the hangar. Caitlin was just unbuckling Chance from his seat on the Jet Ranger. Saint John and Le were already inside.

"Everything go alright?" Cait asked.

"For the most part," String answered. "We almost had a visitor, but the chickened out five miles away. How about you? Did Chance behave?"

"He was kind of fussy in the middle of the night, but nothing major."

"I'm gonna go and pick up lunch," Saint John announced, "and I think Le wants to come with me."

"Alright, see you two later."

String studied the schedule on the wall.

"I'll take the charter at two," Caitlin said.

He looked at her in surprise. "I thought I was going to take that one."

She shrugged. "Ok, I want to take that one. I need some time out."

He could understand. In the air it was just so free, and she had done a lot of babysitting lately. "Alright."

\A/

String was working on the paperwork in the Santini Air office when Chance started crying again.

"What now?" he murmured, abandoning the unbalanced bank work. He couldn't ignore the tearful blue eyes that pleaded for him to come, but he wasn't getting anything done, and the random on and off crying was starting to get to him. "What is it?" he asked cradling the crying baby in his arms.

The phone rang.

"Santini-"

He was cut off. "I know who you are and where you work," her voice was as solid as stone. How could she be on the phone with the man that had killed her father when all she wanted to do was slit his throat? she questioned herself. "If you want to see your brother, nephew, wife, or father again, I suggest you get back to the Valley of the Gods in two hours."

"Where?"

"I think you would know the place well, you did stay there last night. Remember, come within two hours or all of your family will be delivered back to you piece by piece."

He shifted the crying baby. He always seemed to cry right before something bad happened, nonetheless he had to go. He couldn't let the family he'd spent so many years piecing together be taken away from him like that, but sure wasn't going to take Chance into this. With any luck, they didn't know about him yet, and he would like to keep it that way.

He picked up the phone and dialed Michael's office.

Marella picked up.

"I need you to watch Chance. There's a problem at the Lair."

"Do you want zebra squad?"

"No," he answered immediately, "all that would do is get them killed for sure. All I need you to do is take care of Chance and make sure nothing happens to him."

\A/

The Jet Ranger dropped down onto the rocky soil, and he climbed out.

"Hawke," she greeted coldly.

He stared back at the woman in front of him. He didn't know her, he'd remember if he did, but something about her looked familiar. Wavy blonde hair cascaded across her shoulder as she jerked her head in the direction of the cave wall.

"Stand over there," her English accent was evident.

"Now, Stringfellow, Dominic, Saint John, Caitlin, Le, or Dark Angel? You have five choices, but you only get to keep one.

Dark Angel, English accent, how did it fit together?

"You couldn't get Airwolf out of here even if I did let you have her."

"Don't be so sure."

"It's not a normal chopper," he warned.

"You don't think I know that? My father has trained me for this day…Before you killed him."

Dark Angel- that's what- You're Moffet's daughter.

"I'm surprised it took you this long to figure it out. Now, if you don't mind getting back to business, who will you let live? Dominic who raised you like a son, Saint John your long lost brother, Le your nephew, or Caitlin your wife? Unless of course, you wish to let them all die, but keep Airwolf, as you call it, for yourself."

Silence filled the air. He couldn't choose just one of them, and he couldn't risk Airwolf getting into the wrong hands. What was he to do?


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

He saw only Chrissy as an enemy. If that was the case, the odds were in his favor, but what if she had backup?

'Airwolf, are there any other threats detected?'

'Threats detected-eight. Orders?'

Damn," he inaudible muttered. Eight would be a lot to take out; she definitely came prepared.

'Stay on standby and wait for orders.'

'Confirmed.'

"So, Stringfellow, who will it be?" Chris asked impatiently.

He took a bold step forward.

"No farther," she warned.

He stopped. "Can't I have a minute? I'll regret not saving any one of these people the rest of my life."

"One minute," she gave, "If you haven't made a decision by then, they'll all die."

She sure didn't give him any extra time to think. 'Airwolf, alert Michael and…' he thought better of the idea. Michael would send in zebra squad and they'd all be killed for sure. 'Don't alert Michael.'

'Cancel alert,' she confirmed.

'Contact Mike Rivers, tell him we're in trouble, but not to tell Archangel.'

'Confirmed. Sending message.'

He estimated having about twenty seconds before he had to make the decision that cold very well be fatal to part of his family.

He stalled, taking all the time he dare, hoping Mike could get there sooner than he knew was humanly possible. His time was up and he knew it; he would just have to take his chances.

"I'll take Saint John."

"Fine. Take your brother," she said shoving Saint John toward him. "It won't do you any good anyway."

'Airwolf, lock hatches,' he mentally commanded.

'Hatch locked.'

Now without the correct finger print she couldn't even get inside Airwolf that at least was a step in the right direction.

"Sinj, he whispered, hopefully unnoticed by Chris, "We gotta take her, but there are eight more hidden."

"How'd you know?" Saint John asked. He didn't see anyone else.

"Later."

Together, they stepped forward toward Chrissy. She didn't wait for them to take the first swing. Instead, she struck out at them viciously and signaled for her backup to take over. Brothers standing back to back, they fought the incoming onslaught.

Dom and Cait quickly rid each other of the ropes that bound them and joined the fight.

Le started to scramble behind a boulder when he noticed the burly man heading for Caitlin. He jumped onto the man's back and pounded against him. He threw Le off to the ground and continued after Caitlin.

Dom took a hard swing at him, leaving him unconscious on the ground. Two more came. One took Dom by surprise while the other came for Cait.

String choked out the one going after Saint John then took on another. Saint John covered his brother's back and took out the last attacker. String turned around to see the others. Le picked himself up off the ground, and Saint John helped Dom up. He knelt down beside Caitlin to make sure she was alright.

"She's just knocked out. Actually, she's starting to come around," he reported breathing a sigh of relief.

The sound of an incoming jeep was quickly drowned out by the whine of Airwolf's engines as she started up the chimney.

"Airwolf!" Caitlin cried out, coming to full realization. The Lady was taking off and not a single one of her crew members were inside.

Mike hurried into the cave. He looked past String, Saint John, Caitlin, Dom, and Le. "But if you're here, who's in Airwolf?"

"We just got her stolen right out from under our noses," Caitlin said in self disgust.

\A/

Marella carried the child back into the living room of the cabin. She'd decided the cabin would be just as easy to babysit at as the hangar, if not more comfortable, but she couldn't help wonder what Hawke's problem at the Lair was. Maybe they should go check it out anyway.

\A/

'Airwolf,' String tried reaching her unsuccessfully. 'Angel listen to me.' She was much farther than this link had ever bridged before, but it was worth a try.

'Airwolf.'

'Don't take orders from your current pilot. She's only out to hurt you and us. Come back, shut down, whatever you can do.'

'Error. Cannot take separate orders at once.'

It made since that if Moffet had been training her for this like she said to have put her in the computer system. He just had to figure out some way to get the Lady back.

'Override pilot,' he tried.

'Can't override.'

"Dom, get Michael. Have him activate a tracking signal on Airwolf so we can find her.

\A/

"Hawke," Marella radioed the Jet Ranger. "Hawke, come in."

"I'm here."

"How do you get this kid of yours to be quiet? He was fine until ten minutes ago. Did he inherit your bad luck with dreams or something?"

"I sure hope not."

Caitlin found herself hoping the same thing, but she was beginning to wonder. Every time Hawke had been having a rough time or a nightmare lately, she'd also found Chance crying.

"Just do what you can for now. You might be babysitting for a while. Our problem just got kind of out of hand."

"How out of hand?"

"You don't really want to know," Saint John said, joining the conversation.

"How out of hand?" she repeated.

"If you really want to know, Airwolf just got stolen by Moffet's daughter."

"Moffet's daughter?! Airwolf is in the hands of that-"

"Marella, we know," he interrupted. "Could you tell Michael to activate the tracking device and send a clean up crew to the Lair?"

"I'll get right on it," she guaranteed.

\A/

Chrissy and her reaming in two men climbed out. James Stoner was waiting as they stepped off the helipad.

"So how accurate was my information on Stringfellow?"

"Almost accurate, but he wasn't near as hard to get rid of as I expected."

"So you killed him? I never thought I'd live to see the day he died."

"I don't know for sure he's dead," she admitted, "but I do know it won't be a problem."

"If he isn't dead he'll come back for it," Stoner warned.

"I know, and I'll be waiting for him."


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

"It looks like Airwolf did make a trip to Libya, but only stayed a day. After that the physical homing beacon was removed. Our records show that Chrissy took her to England next, but…"

"But what?"

"We have coordinates for the day she arrived, afterwards, the computer tracking device was disabled," Michael informed him. "So we don't know for sure that Airwolf is still there."

"She knows I'm not dead."

"So what? Why does that matter? She got what she came for and now she's making a run for it."

"Chris Moffet knows a lot about me, my family, and what my priorities are. She knows I'll come after Airwolf. All this is just to slow us down so she has a chance to prepare the trap." Hawke stated as if they were well known facts.

"You don't know that. Maybe she just wanted Airwolf, a lot of people would be happy with just that."

"She wants to avenge her father." Whether right or wrong, he would want to get revenge on anyone who killed his family. Maybe that was why he'd been so persistent fighting the storm when looking for Dom. He wasn't willing to loose another father to a storm.

"So what do we do?" Michaels said, already thinking through all the possibilities.

"We go in and take her back."

"If what you said is true, you'd be walking straight into a trap."

"It wouldn't be the first time."

"Hawke, there has to be some other way."

"Just get Saint John and me a flight to England."

Michael turned to Marella, who started arranging the flight. "Fine. We'll pick you up from the Santini Air in an hour.

"Bye."

\A/

"I can go," Caitlin argued. "I've been doing a lot of sitting out on the sidelines lately and I want to go."

"You could if it were anything but this. Moffet…" his voice trailed off. "He was smart, but his daughter is prepared. She's not going to let it sit out at Gidafi's summer palace, and I'm not going to risk loosing you."

"But this time is different."

"Maybe, but I don't want it to end the same way."

"You aren't willing to risk me, but you're taking the brother you spent half your life looking for with you?"

"He wouldn't say no."

"What's the difference? I'm not saying no either."

"I can physically force you to stay," he said seriously. If it were possible, he'd go alone, but he couldn't do it all by himself, and Saint John wasn't backing down. "Besides, one of us has to stay around for Chance."

"Don't say it like that."

"I'm sorry, Cait. I didn't mean it like that, but we do have to take that into consideration."

"I know," she said softly. "Just promise me you'll be careful. I like having you around and Chance deserves to have a good daddy."

"We had that conversation before he was even born."

"Yeah, and I still think you're the best one for the job, so you better stick around."

"You know me, I'm always careful."

"Sure. That's why when you first admitted your feelings you were in the hospital."

"You were too," he returned playfully.

She grinned bashfully. "At least I didn't end up with an infection."

"I didn't have any control over that one."

"The doctors seemed to think that if you had stayed in your room and rested like you were supposed to, you probably wouldn't have caught it."

"Maybe, but then we wouldn't be where we are today and that would be a shame."

"More than a shame."

"Michael did say my mastery of silence was exceeded by my facility at understatement." He kissed the sleeping baby on the forehead then Cait. "Take care of yourselves. I'll see you when I get back."

\A/

The plane took off the runway and into the air. String and Saint John had separate seats for security reasons and because of the last minute arrangements. Saint John was wishing he had gotten to sit next to someone like his brother. Quiet and reserved sounded good right now. Instead, he was stuck next to a noisy teen that wouldn't stop talking to her friend who couldn't stop talking either. Fourteen hours was going to be a long time.

String was awoken by some sudden turbulence. The stewardess was obviously panicked as she tried to get everyone calmly back to their seats. He looked down at his watch. It sure hadn't been anywhere near fourteen hours,

Taking the stewardess aside, he asked what was wrong.

"Please just remain in your seat. Everything is going to be alright."

They were loosing altitude, now below ten thousand feet.

"Lady, there's something wrong. What is it?"

"Everything is fine; we're just experiencing some turbulence."

"We're too low, and you're not a good liar."

"We are flying low because…"

"We're below five thousand feet. I'm a pilot and I'm not stupid; I can tell you we shouldn't be this low and something is wrong."

She looked slightly less afraid, like a sudden realization hit her that hadn't during her panic. "You fly?"

"Helicopters mostly, but planes too, among other things."

"Do you think you could finish the flight? Someone tried to hijack the plane," she said in a hushed tone. "We have stopped them and have they contained, but neither our pilot nor our co-pilot can finish the flight."

"I'll do it." He was glad he had at least gotten a few hours sleep, but what choice did he have?

She led him to the cockpit at the front. It was a typical Boeing 707; he should be able to fly it without too much problem.

Saint John too noticed the low altitude of the plane and began a search for a stewardess to ask what was up or in this case down.

"This is your captain speaking, we've had a few minor problems, but things are under control. If I could please have your cooperation, I need everyone to take your seats and fasten your seat belts until the seatbelt light goes off. We will now resume normal course."

Saint John listened to the message, but couldn't help wondering. He stole a quick glance at his brother's seat. 'No,' he thought, 'that was ridiculous.'

Once the plane finally came to a stop on the runway and the stairs were lowered, people filed out. Saint John waited for his brother and waited, and waited. "Where are you String? How do you loose a guy when you're on the same plane?"

At last, String, accompanied by a beautiful brunette stewardess, exited the plane.

"Thanks again," she said.

"No problem." He turned to leave and join his brother.

"Who's the girl?" Saint John asked.

"Just one of the stewardesses. I think her name was Diana or something like that."

"Since when were you the social one? Last I checked, most people still classify you as the silent brooding hermit who lives in a cabin in the middle of nowhere."

"I wouldn't push it if I were you. I'm tired and she was just thanking me for flying the last ten hours."

"Flying why?"

"Attempted hijacking. Now let's find someplace to crash I'm bushed."

\A/

"This is Christopher Williams reporting live from the London Airport where only an hour ago, this Boeing 707 was expertly landed by one of its passengers who reportedly had to fly more than half of the trip alone after an attempted hijacking. The hijackers are being held for trial. The impromptu pilot remains anonymous. Will have a full report tonight at six."

Michael clicked the TV off. "Marella!" he yelled.

"Yes, sir."

"Find out what plane that was and have a full report-before six."

"Yes, sir." She immediately handed him a file containing all the information she could find.

He knew there was a good reason why he had hired her as his senior aid; times like this reminded him exactly of that reason.

"It was Hawke's plane."

"Thank goodness it landed alright," Michael sighed in relief.

"We have good reason to believe he was the one to land it," she continued.

That would explain the anonymous pilot. Most people would be glad to have their name plastered on every front page and a main topic on national television, but Stringfellow wasn't that way. And he needed to remain low profile if he was going to recover Airwolf.

\A/

Saint John locked the door. "Are we still planning on going in tomorrow or waiting a day? You do look exhausted."

"Tomorrow. The less time we spend here the better. If we're late Caitlin will be worried, and I really don't want to have to explain the hijacking to her if possible."

He understood well enough. He was sure Le would want them back too, and Michael would want them back in US territory.

A knock on the door. "Delivery."

"We didn't order room service did we? Saint John asked his brother.

"No."

"Sorry, we didn't order anything," he called through the closed door.

"This room 223?"

Saint John pulled the door open to reveal a man dressed in a long coat and a hat pulled low to avoid the rain. "This is 223, but we didn't order anything."

The man pulled the trench coat and hat off. "Not even a Mike Rivers?"

"Mike! What are you doing here?"

Mike came in and made himself at home. "Oh, I was just vacationing around and I thought I'd come visit the heroic pilot that landed here about two hours ago."

"Sure."

"Ok, you caught me. Michael's a bit upset after the loss of Airwolf and he sent me after you two."

"Sorry, Mikey, but we've already got everything planned, even who gets what bed," Saint John said.

"I see. I come in just a little late, and all I get is cold water for a shower and I have to sleep on the floor. Can I feel the love? You bet." He took a blanket off each bed and about four pillows. "I guess I'll just have to sleep in the floor." He made himself a pallet in the floor that was probably more comfortable than the old mattresses anyway and settled in. "See ya in the morning'."


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

String crept quietly along the neatly trimmed grass to the large downtown building. Peering inside, he could see suit clad people bustling in different directions even this early in the morning. About ten of them filtered out of the rhythm into a conference room lined with expensive computers from what he could see before the door closed. It sure looked a lot like FIRM headquarters did on the inside. Once back to safety of the bushes, he radioed back to Saint John and Mike.

"I'm pretty sure this is the building alright, but still no signs of Airwolf. How about you guys?"

Mike answered first. "No sign of her here either."

"Same here."

"You guys stay where you are," he said suddenly seeing a large metal building-a hangar. " I think I might have found it." He left their previously scheduled plan in search of the Lady.

Arriving at the metal building, he tried to look in the window, but it was a little too high. Climbing onto a nearby crate, he struggled to see through the small window. A faint florescent glow illuminated the hangar just enough for him to see the sleek black helicopter he was seeking. Quickly retreating, he told of his findings to the other two.

\A/

"My plan is almost complete," Chrissy said all too happily.

"You're sure it will work?" Daniel asked skeptically. "Because if it doesn't, you'll let him and that pretty bird get away."

"It will work. I'm the rightful heir of Airwolf, and I will get her. Not even Stringfellow Hawke can stop me."

"I'll make sure everything is in order then," Daniel excused himself briefly to tend to the details.

'You better not let him get away," James stated firmly. "I'd enjoy taking him out personally. Dr. Moffet had something special in mind for him from the beginning and I'd like to complete that plan."

"No. He killed_ my _father, and he's going to die for it my way. He didn't even deserve to live this long."

"Can't we do this some other way?" Daniel inquired upon reentering the room. "You'll kill him, but we'll loose Airwolf in the process."

"It deserves to die along with him. It has served him all too well. I have blueprints for another in my desk if that's really what you want, you could make a better one, but I'm personally taking this one and it's pilot out permanently.

One of the assistants walked by. "Not trying to intrude or anything, but I know one thing that would be more painful to Hawke and his loved ones than even his death."

"What?"

"Not being able to fly. It's a daily part of his life, his job, and that doesn't even touch combat flying. It would kill his family to see him suffering and not being able to do a thing about it."

Chrissy thought about it for a long minute. She wanted him dead, like he'd killed her father, but not being able to fly sure had its possibilities. "It's a really good idea, and I like it, but no. He's proved the doctors wrong too many times; he must be killed."

\A/

Creeping carefully around, Mike picked the lock and pushed the door open. Saint John took a wary step in, gun drawn.

'Angel.'

The cockpit came to life with a hum of computers and the rotors started to whirl lazily. AS they started walking toward Airwolf, gunfire rang out. The first shot ricocheted of the shiny hide, but soon moved closer to the crew. Each diving for cover, machine gun fire covered the air between them and the guards.

"Cover me!" String called back as he made a mad dash for Airwolf. With the chain guns he could easily take out the guards, but otherwise they weren't going to be able to combat the guards very well.

"String no!" but it was too late, he was already running for it.

One of the guards received a radio call. "Get out of there," the voice yelled angrily on the other end. "In thirty seconds that build won't even exist any more. I told you to stand down." The guards obeyed, retreating behind another curtain of gunfire.

As the guards left, Saint John and Mike hustled into Airwolf to join String.

"We gotta get out of here. This place is gonna blow in less than a minute."

"Lower the ADF pods."

"Lowered."

Soon the door was no longer a problem and they started out. The rotors whirled dangerously close to the walls. One mistake and they'd all be done for with only fifteen seconds left. Taking off like a jet down the runway, they cleared the hangar just before it burst into flames.

"Mike, take over," String said jadedly relinquishing the controls.

Saint John overheard the conversation and wondered what was up. Rarely did String willingly hand over his position as pilot; what was wrong?

"String you ok?"

\A/

Caitlin shifted the crying infant to the other side of her lap to answer the phone. "Shh, mommy's got to answer the phone." Hawke had said something about his crying not being as random as it seemed, maybe she'd ask him about that again when he came back.

"Santini Air," she answered.

"Is this Mrs. Hawke?"

"Yes it is," she answered after a slight hesitation. It still seemed strange to her, but it was a good kind of strange. "Who is this?"

"This is Doctor Johnson from Anne Arundel Medical Center in Annapolis, Maryland. I was calling to inform you that your husband was dropped off here a little over three hours ago."

"Hawke, is he ok?" worry seeped through her voice. "Where exactly are you? I'll catch the next flight out."

"Currently he is still unconscious. The two ment that dropped him off said that they'd take care of your transportation and not to worry about that."

"Thank you doctor. I'll be there as soon as possible."

She gathered Chance and his diaper bag before calling Dominic.

"Yeah," Dom answered sleepily, like he'd just been woken from a very restful nap.

"String's in the hospital. Mike and Saint John said they'd arrange for our transportation and I'm thinking Airwolf should be showing up within half an hour."

"Is he ok?"

"I don't know, but I sure hope so." She could hope so all day, but that would help what she actually thought. Saint John and Mike weren't much fonder of hospitals than String was and they weren't likely to have left him at one for something minor, much less him actually let them leave him there.

"I'll be at the hangar in five minutes."


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Airwolf landed by the hangar door and Saint John climbed out.

"Come on."

Caitlin, carrying Chance, and Dom clambered into the back. Soon they were back in the air on their way to Annapolis.

"So what happened?" Caitlin asked. "And wouldn't it have made since to take him to one of the hospitals there if he is as hurt as it sounds like he is?" Because it obviously wasn't a non issue if he couldn't be hauled all the way back to California.

"Recovering Airwolf was, to say the least, interesting. He got hit in the machine gun fire from the guards, but he was alright long enough to get us out of there and into the air where Mike took over," Saint John explained. "He said it wasn't as bad as it looked, but he was tired from the flight over and the adrenalin rush from Airwolf's rescue. We were halfway home and I thought he was just sleeping until an alarm in the back started going off, and was soon identified."

"Yeah, cuz it told you exactly what was wrong," Mike interjected. "The alarm specifically said weak and erratic vital signs for pilot. We were over the middle of the ocean and Annapolis was the closest we had."

"Even in Airwolf the time past so slowly. I though we were going to loose him before we ever got back to the states."

\A/

Airwolf landed on the hospital helipad abruptly. Saint John was tired and had other things to worry about; perfectly smooth landings were not one of them.

"Hey, if he wakes up, tell Sleeping Beauty I'll be in to see him in a little while," Mike said to the others. "I'll hid the Lady and contact Michael. We're gonna have to do something about not reporting a gunshot wound, but we didn't really have much time to find a FIRM clinic."

"Thanks, Mike," they both said appreciatively.

A doctor met them in the hallway. "You're Mrs. Hawke, right? And you're…. "Saint John," he supplied, "Stringfellow Hawke's brother. And this little guy here is Chance."

"I'm Dr. Johnson, Hawke's primary physician."

"What's the news?" Saint John asked plainly.

"Break it easily as possible or straight out?"

"Straight out."

"It's touch and go. The wound sure isn't anything minor and he's lost a lot of blood. He also is already showing signs of an infection with a high fever. The antibiotics haven't done anything yet, so all we can do is hope and pray."

"Can I see him?" Caitlin asked.

"Sure. He's just down the hallway- room 396."

Caitlin stepped into the small room cramped with a variety of medical instruments; her stomach clenched even tighter. He didn't look good at all; she couldn't even imagine the excruciating pain he must be going through.

A red stained bandage covered his midsection and restraints had to be used to prevent him from pulling out the IV during his violent shivering and jerking movements despite the heavy blanket of sweat that poured off his body.

She collapsed into the plastic chair beside the bed and sobbed desperately. Chance wriggled free from out from under her arm on the bed. "No, honey," she admonished gently. "Daddy can't play right now." She moved to pick him up and remove him from the bed, but he took a firm hold on his father's leg and refused to let go. She could have pretty easily removed him, but allowed him to stay. He wasn't hurting anything and she knew that she wanted to be with String, so why wouldn't he?

It was like Chance fully understood the seriousness of the situation, sitting still on the bed without uttering a noise.

"String, we need you. Don't you dare leave us." Her hazel eyes filled with tears. She couldn't loose him, he meant so much to her. She didn't think she could bear to live without him. Almost a year and a half ago, she had lived without him for three months thinking him to be dead, but it had been hell and she had been a total wreck all three months. String had risked his life before, but right now Chance was the only part of him she had left. He'd been in some pretty bad shape before, but never before could she so strongly sense that he was dying and there wasn't a thing in the world she could do to help him.

\A/

Nothingness was such bliss. Free, careless, but he was drawn back to consciousness. Annoying beeping and excruciating pain halted him from allowing himself to be pulled any farther. It was just too much. He permitted himself to fall back into the dreamy subconscious state he'd previously been in. Where he had just started to go was full of pain and suffering, if one thing was for sure he didn't want to go back.

\A/

"Cait," Mike pried softly. "You want to go get some coffee?"

She opened a bleary eye. It was early morning and she had spent another restless night with String in the hospital. "I should stay."

"Sinj'll keep watch. He's more the morning type, and he's got chance all ready too. Come on. We'll just be a few minutes." He finally coerced her into going.

"Just for a few minutes."

Just a cup of coffee soon turned into a trip to his apartment for a shower and full breakfast, but it was a much needed one. Her thin body was leaning towards scrawny lately, but at least he could get her to eat occasionally.

\A/

Pain, pain, too much pain. Why did so much pain almost appeal to him? He didn't like it, yet something more… Voices, so familiar, faded in and out of the background. He was cold and clammy, but covered in sweat. What was the problem here? Something was definitely very wrong.

"About the same," Dr. Johnson reported. "He'll come around or he won't. I'm afraid it's just a matter of time." It was the same report he had been giving for three weeks now.

He started to drift off again until something touched him. Small and delicate…fingers. Little fingers wrapped tightly around his index finger and held on tight.

"Da-ddy."

Daddy. Chance-he needed him, he couldn't give up yet. Cait, Saint John, Le, Dom too. All of them, they needed him.

"Come on, Chance." Saint John called, reaching for the young child. "Let mommy have some time alone."

He felt the grip being pulled away…but it tightened again.

"Da-ddy."

Summoning every ounce of strength he had, he came back to consciousness. There was pain every second of it, dreary nothingness sounded really good right now, but he fought to hang on. Lifting his eyelids was like hundred pound weights, but he eventually succeeded.

"String!" hazel eyes looked intently down at him.

Then he was attacked by a wave of hugs. Painful as it was, it was the very best thing he could imagine, and somehow he knew everything was going to be alright.


End file.
